


Silent Treatment

by cuttingthepainter



Category: No Fandom, Original Work
Genre: Domestic, Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, Exophilia, F/M, Female Reader, Fluff, Human/Monster Romance, Monster - Freeform, Orcs, Reader-Insert
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-08
Updated: 2020-02-08
Packaged: 2021-02-28 04:21:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,092
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22607689
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cuttingthepainter/pseuds/cuttingthepainter
Summary: Your orc boyfriend is giving you the silent treatment. You've made it your mission to break it.
Relationships: Male Orc/female Reader, OC/Reader, Original Male Character/Reader
Kudos: 72





	Silent Treatment

**Author's Note:**

> Hello all! I hope you enjoy! This was the first story I ever posted publicly after YEAR of writing. After it did well on Tumblr, I decided to finally put my AO3 to use and share it here. I hope you enjoy!

You had been on a mission ever since Otho had gotten home, attempting to annoy him until he was no longer upset with you. He had been giving you the silent treatment for most of the day. That morning, he had woken up and fell into his normal routine to get ready for work. You sleepily watched as he pulled his button up over his broad figure, his strong biceps flexing as he worked the buttons. The tattoos littering his chest disappeared one button at a time. He left the bathroom door open as he brushed his teeth and tusks and fixed the long, black plait that ran down his back. 

When it came time for him to grab his lunch, your crime had been discovered. While you were working on your final paper during the night, the insatiable craving had hit you; you  _ needed _ a cheeseburger or you would absolutely die. You had ever so silently reheated the burger, stopping the microwave right before it beeped, and ate the cheesy goodness before you finished writing for the night. How were you supposed to know that Otho planned to take that for lunch today? He rarely took leftovers to work with him.

The silent treatment had been okay while he was at work, you were busy going to classes anyways, but now that you were both home it was unbearable. When he had walked through the front door, you rushed up to him as you did every evening. He had picked you up and set you aside when you attempted to climb up his towering figure to pepper his face with welcome home kisses. 

Later in the kitchen, you wrapped your arms around his waist and nuzzled your face into his muscular back. Lazily running your fingers along his abdomen while he chopped veggies for tonight's dinner. When you asked him about his day at work, he simply pulled out of your grasp, turned to the stove, and tossed the veggies into a pan. That’s when you set out to be so cute that he couldn’t help but break the silent treatment. 

After Otho brushed you off in the kitchen, you changed into pajamas that you knew were his favorites. Otho’s eyes lingered on you when you walked into the living room donning his oversized t-shirt. He loved when you wore his clothes and you knew it, wearing them would usually earn you a deep, possessive growl. This time had been no different. You felt the orc’s growl rumble in your stomach from across the room. You tied his shirt up to reveal the lilac pajamas shorts that hugged your waist and accentuated your curves. Lilac was Otho’s favorite color on you; whenever you wore it, he would whisper  _ I love you, my sweet little flower _ in your ear as he cradled you to him before kissing you breathless. 

Heat filled his eyes as they roamed down your body. A slow smirk settled on his face as he took in the shorts. When he looked into your eyes, you understood that he knew what game you were playing. He tore his gaze from yours and went back to making dinner. You rolled your eyes and settled into the couch, opening your laptop and continuing the paper you had been working on the night before. He didn’t announce when food was done, he just spooned the stirfry into his bowl and sat on the couch to eat. You pouted as he picked up his bowl, jutting your bottom lip out and attempting the best puppy dog eyes you could muster.

“Stop looking at me like that, I can’t be angry at you when you’re looking that cute,” Otho grumbled. He continued cradling his stir fry on the arm of the couch and raised his book up to block the view of your face. You closed your laptop and set it aside before sitting up and slowly crawling to Otho’s seat on the couch. You sat back onto your heels when you were close enough to press your knees into his thigh

“I wouldn’t have to look at you like this if you would just stop being angry with me,” you whine, pulling the book out of his hand and setting it on the coffee table.

“Stop eating food that isn’t yours and I wouldn’t have to be angry at you,” Otho quipped back, shoveling a spoonful into his mouth. You reached out, attempting to grab a spoonful for yourself but Otho was faster. He raised the bowl above his head, knowing you would have to stand to even have a chance of grabbing it. He towered over you even while sitting and he loved any excuse to use the height difference against you. 

“I wouldn’t have to eat your food if you didn’t cook so well. You know the extent of my kitchen skills consist of pizza rolls and microwave meals, and you’re the one who’s made sure we don't have either,” you huffed and crossed your arms, leveling him with a playful glare. His eyes softened as he looked at you; anger was nowhere to be found those rich, amber eyes. Otho sighed, moving his bowl before grabbing your hips and pulling you to straddle him. You wrapped your arms around him and smiled as he leaned down to nuzzle into your neck, his tusks tickling at your throat. 

“I guess you have a point,” he said, peppering kisses on the hollow of your throat. You let out a contented sigh followed by a sharp gasp when the kisses turned into a firm bite. Otho pulled away, the devious glint in his eye sending heat flooding between your legs. His large hands grip your hips, holding you firmly on his lap. “But there were other options to choose from, yet you still choose my food, didn’t you?” 

You nodded, swallowing nervously as you held his gaze. His fingers moved on your hips, the rough calluses dragging along your soft skin as his hands nudged under your shirt. You let your hands slide from around his neck and down his muscular torso to the hem on his shirt. When your fingers grazed the trail of hair leading into his sweatpants, he tsked and stilled your hands with one of his own. 

“Naughty girls don’t get to lead, my sweet little flower, they get punished,” he breathed, the desire in his voice thick. He caught my mouth with his as he lifted us both of the couch and moved towards the bedroom. Mission accomplished. 


End file.
